


New Beginnings

by ComingToDust



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-23 19:07:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComingToDust/pseuds/ComingToDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock post Reichenbach. Sherlock hasn't told John that he is alive yet. It took years, but he found ways to occupy his time. He finds, or rather, someone finds him unexpectedly. (New/Own character)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was already dark in London when Tabitha had left the hospital. She was wrapped in an overcoat and a giant red plaid scarf that her father had sent for Christmas. When she stepped onto the sidewalk she searched her shoulder bag for her umbrell and sighed when she realized she had left it at home. Angry now at herself, she pulled her funny scarf over her hair to avoid the rain. She took small quick steps to catch a cab home from work. It was a relatively short drive to her flat, one she had taken often. The rain had quit before reaching her destination and she instructed the cabbie to pull over, she would walk the rest of the way. 'It's nice enough out , she had though to herself. It was this thought, this action that would change her life forever.       It was two blocks to reach her flat from where she was standing. Tabitha pulled her scarf back down around her neck and smiled as she took in the fresh night air. The smile fell quickly from her face when she heard a groan coming from an alley up ahead. Approaching apprehensively she peeked around the corner.  
"Oh my God! Are you alright?!" She exclaimed as she rushed to the man lying on the ground. Deep red fluid was flowing from his nose, mouth, and eyebrow. He groaned and looked dizzily up at her as he attempted to pull himself to a sitting position.  
"You were mugged eh? In this neighborhood?!" She said in her thick Scottish accent as she looked around for his attacker. She could tell that he was mugged from the way he looked. Blood had dripped onto his button up white shirt and his dark curly locks were all in a tussle. His shirt had been untucked in the back from the panic of reaching for his wallet. "Just look at the state of you! Come on now, I'll fix you up. My flat's just round the corner." Tabitha helped him stand up and she draped the tall mans arm around her shoulders. Her mother would have a thing or two to say if she could see her now. She listened to her mothers would be words inside her head. 'Look at what the city has done to you girl! Bringing home a stray! Have you got a death wish?!'  Tabitha shook away the thought and continued to walk this tall pale, dark haired man to her home. Just before she reached the door she stopped and turned her head to face him.  
"Have you got a name?" She asked quizzically. He patted his bleeding eyebrow before he looked up to face her.  
"Sherlock Holmes"


	2. Chapter 2

After clambering up the steps to her flat, Tabitha helped Sherlock out of his coat and situated him onto her sofa.   
"Tea?" She asked as she headed to the kitchen.   
"Mm, please." Sherlock responded. She quickly put the kettle on and went to the restroom to grab her nursing equipment. Bringing a wash cloth, a bowl of warm water, and her kit, she sat them on the coffee table and sat down beside Sherlock. He turned to face her and allowed her to tend to his wounds. Tabitha focused on mopping up the blood from his face. Starting with his eyebrow she was surprised to find a beautiful pale blue-green eye underneath the dark red. She was mesmerized by the color, not quite blue, not quite green, but with a tiny brown freckle above the pupil. She turned red and rinsed her cloth when she was caught staring.   
"You've got a beautiful eye... Erm... Eyes." She admitted. Now she was just feeling silly.   
"Oh... Thank you." He replied a little uncomfortably, moving in his seat. Tabitha smiled sweetly, but quickly recovered and returned to her work on his skin. After a few more minutes she took her bowl to the sink to replace the dirty water and made them both tea while she was there. She brought him back a mug and returned with her bowl. It took half an hour to finally clear the blood on his face and hands. 

"That's going to need stitching." She said pointing at his eyebrow. "Do you mind if I...?" She held up her stitching equipment and waited for permission. Sherlock only nodded in agreement.   
"Been a nurse for long Tabitha?" He finally spoke after the long time spent silent. She paused a moment and looked at him confused because she hadn't told him her name. Smiling, she looked up at her wall to where her nursing degree with her name emblazoned on the front hung framed.   
"No. About a year. Internship working in the emergency department. Things can get pretty bloody, but I enjoy the work. I'd like to go back to uni to become a surgeon." She explained to him. "And on Tuesdays I teach a French class." She laughed as she added the last bit of information because she felt like she had over shared already, so why not? Sherlock grinned when she laughed. Tabitha snipped the tiny string from his eyebrow and pulled away.   
"There. All done." She pulled out a small light to check his pupils for dilation to make sure that he didn't have a concussion. All clear.   
Finally sitting back comfortably against her cushion sipped her tea quietly for a moment.   
"And what is it that you do Sherlock?" She smiled and moved a strand of annoyingly red hair from her face. Tabitha watched as he too sat comfortably against the back of the cushion and sipped his tea. He cleared his throat before speaking.   
"Consulting detective."  
"and you enjoy that do you?"  
"Quite. Some call it passion."  
They both sat quietly before she sat up and gave an open mouth grin.   
"Well go on then, tell me something exciting." Sherlock squinted his eyes and looked at her before a smirk found its way onto his lips.   
"Alright." He sat up straighter and set his mug on the table so that he could use his hands to help him speak. Two hours passed as Sherlock spoke of Chinese smugglers and how the answers are sometimes right in front of him. He explained how the job was sometimes dangerous and they both laughed when Sherlock brought up Anderson.   
"He really said that?!" Tabitha said laughing hysterically as Sherlock imitated an idiotic Anderson. She caught her breath and checked her watch for the time.   
"Oh my!" She looked over at Sherlock who was now sitting cross legged on her sofa with no shoes and his sleeves rolled up. "Where are you staying?" She asked him wondering whether or not she needed to accommodate him. She was rather tired and had to work tomorrow. She needed sleep, and as much as she enjoyed Sherlock's company, he either needed to sleep or leave.   
"Oh... Erm in the city." Sherlock watched her yawn and slipped his feet off the couch to slip on his shoes. Tabitha smiled and stood up. Before he could reach for his coat, she hesitantly offered him some pain medication. She had noticed some fading and old track marks that littered his arm and didn't want to be the one to push him back into the abyss, but she felt it was necessary to ask. Sherlock politely declined and waited by the door a minute before bending over to kiss Tabitha on the cheek.   
"Thank you." He whispered sincerely.  
"Oh!" She touched her cheek where she was kissed, surprised by it, and then smiled. "It was nothing." She couldn't fully appreciate the meaning of Sherlock's words, she would soon come to find that those words weren't common in his vocabulary. With a quick smile, and a flap of an oversized coat, Sherlock was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Tabitha woke fairly early the next day still smiling about the night before. She showered and dressed slowly, she didn't have to be at work until later in the day. After opening her fridge to see emptiness inside, she looked down longingly to her hungry stomach. She wandered around her flat aimlessly for a few minutes before she plopped down on the couch. Looking over to the place where Sherlock sat, a silly grin grew on her face. She hadn't been able to get him out of her head. She could feel her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment and she stood up angrily. "What it wrong with you?!" She shouted at herself. She barely knew this man and was already thinking about if she could see him again. The more she thought about it she figured that she might never see him again. He didn't leave a number or address or give any inclination that he wanted to see her again anyway. "Probably for the better." She said aloud, but felt disappointed anyway. Throwing on her coat and scarf and making sure to shove her umbrella in her bag, she scurried out the down and down the flight of steps out into the streets of London.  
Tabitha gave a kind of surprised squeek when she saw what was waiting for her outside her door. 

"Good morning." Sherlock greeted.  
"How long have you been standing there?" She replied inquisitively.  
"Not long." He lied. He hadn't slept the night before and decided to come over when the sun rose. Sherlock had been pacing back and forth in front of her door for the better part of two hours.  
"Right. Well I'm going for breakfast, you're welcome to join me if you'd like." The look on her face was a mixture of surprise, confusion, and fright. She had no idea how long he had actually been waiting for her outside her door or what he wanted. Sherlock checked the time like he had somewhere he needed to be, he twisted his face in thought, and tapped his toe.  
"Alright fine, but afterwards I have something I want to show you."he said before turning on his toe and headed off down the sidewalk.  
"Err... Wait! What are we doing?!" she exclaimed. Tabitha followed close behind and watched as he looked at the street signs and looked around as if he was trying to figure out where they were going.  
"Breakfast yes?" He said answering her question before crossing the street. "Come on, I know a place close by." He was obviously in a hurry as he led her to the restaurant. Tabitha groaned in frustration. Who was this guy? He didn't know what she wanted for breakfast, he didn't even ask. And why was he in such a hurry? What did he want her for? And why was she following him anyway? Tabitha was starting to like the idea of Sherlock more than the actual man.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I am writing post Reichenbach and everyone is supposed to believe that Sherlock is in fact dead, but for the sake of the story I have twisted the facts a little to better suit me. Everyone from Scotland Yard knows he is alive; Lestrade, Donovan, Anderson. I haven't yet decided to include Mycroft in the people who know he is alive or not. I'll keep you posted.

Tabitha strolled close behind Sherlock and was instructed to wait while he went inside to fetch her some breakfast. She waited outside impatiently, tapping her toe. Sherlock came back momentarily with a coffee and a croissant and handed it to her. 

"You can eat on the way." Sherlock spoke before hailing a cab on the street. Tabitha sighed heavily and shrugged her shoulders. 

"Where are you taking me Sherlock?"she was becoming even more impatient as the minutes ticked by. 

"Come on." Sherlock opened the door to the cab and waited for her to crawl in first. With hesitation, she climbed into the cab and sipped her coffee. Her appetite had subsided at this point and she stared frustrated at her croissant. 

"Sherlock..."  
"A crime scene." Sherlock interrupted to finally tell her.  
"Why?" she was confused. What had made him think that she had wanted anything to do with that kind of work? As if he could read her mind, he answered her unspoken question with her own words.  
"'The work is bloody, but I enjoy it.' I could see in your eyes that you thrived for a more chilling opportunity. Besides, I can use your help, erm... advice. If you can really say that you don't want to be there after we are finished, I won't bother you again." Sherlock said it as he looked out the window. He pulled a phone out of his pocket and scrolled through it. Tabitha sat quiet thinking about what he had just said. Did she really want to do this kind of work? 

 

The cab pulled over at the end of a street lined with police vehicles. A little nervous, she followed him into a house surrounded by crime scene investigators that hesitantly let him through. Tabitha watched as people scurried around the small building with equipment made to help aid in the case. Sherlock instructed Tabitha to stand by for one moment while he had a word with the inspector. She watched him carefully trying to make out the words that this man with grey lined hair was saying. She could only guess at Sherlock's words as his back was to her. She squinted her eyes and focused on his lips. "Sherlock, who is this?" he spoke to him. Without turning Sherlock gave him a clear answer and this man began to look heated. "Why don't you just call him?! Tell him you're alive.' Sherlock shook his head in disagreement and Tabitha could then see his jaw moving and the corner of his eyebrows raise. "Yes she can go in, whatever you want." Sherlock turned back towards her and she watched as this grey haired man rubbed the back of his neck with stress. Sherlock started up the stairs and turned his head slightly towards a focused Tabitha. "Coming?" he asked in a monotonous voice. She sighed before answering. "Right behind you." she took deliberate slow steps up the flight of stairs, she was hesitant for what she would find when she reached the top. Sherlock was already in the room when she reached the threshold. He was on the floor and examining the body with a pair of white latex gloves on, poking and prodding, lifting and pulling, trying to find what he could about the person. Tabitha covered her mouth at the sight of it. Sure she had seen plenty of death at the hospital, but never in its natural setting. She was staring at what seemed to be a middle aged man with short brown hair, he seemed to be fairly in shape and highly successful by the look of his attire. Sherlock stood up and took a moment to glance at her. "What?" she asked innocently. "Have a look?" he said with puppy dog eyes. "Oh god Sherlock... I usually tend to the living not the dead." she wasn't nervous, or scared, but a little apprehensive. She didn't know what advice she could offer to him that he couldn't figure out on his own. With just the stories he had told her the night prior she knew that he was good, very good. Sherlock looked at her with pouty lips and big eyes. Tabitha rolled her eyes, 'alright fine'.


End file.
